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> Be Celestia, living with your new husband
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> It's only been a month after you married Anon, an incredible month in which you explored each other to the fullest
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> Sharing secrets and secret places, filling the nights and dozing through lazy mornings
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> You grin at some of the more interesting memories
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> Those hands~
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> You shake your head, and return to your little task
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> Making breakfast in bed for your cute husband
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> It may have been a few thousand years since you last had to cook for yourself, but it can't be that hard
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> The biscuits are baking in the oven as you start chopping peppers for the omelette
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> You hear footsteps down the stairs
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> Out of habit, you renew a certain cosmetic little glamour
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> Anon wanders over, dressed only in red boxers and black socks, rubbing at his sleepy eyes
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> So sexy, so cute
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> "Didn't know you could cook, Sunbeam. Smells tasty."
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> You resist the urge to smile, and lift your chin proudly
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"Although I am a mare, I still know my way around a kitchen. Now sit and wait for your food like a good little colt."
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> He grins, pulling up a stool across the counter from you
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> "Yes mistress, I'll watch in awe at your cooking prowess, and not because I'm worried about the food being burned."
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> Like a mature, sensible mare, you stick your tongue out at him
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> He chuckles, then leans his elbows on the counter
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> "Whatcha makin'?"
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> You glance at the hourglass over the oven
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> Just about done
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"Omelette and biscuits. Sound good, Green Bean?"
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> "Mmhmm."
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> You turn and open the oven, letting the heat wash over your body
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> The biscuits look pretty good, if you say so yourself
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> "Nice."
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> You glance over your shoulder
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> Anon is looking at -
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> You twitch your tail aside, then let it cover your marehood, smirking all the while
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> He licks his lips, his eyes filled with barely contained hunger
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> Hewantsthev.tapestry
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"Now now, we wouldn't want to ruin your appetite for breakfast, would we?"
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> You set baking sheet on the stone counter
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> While you are there, you set a skillet on a burner and get the flame going
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> After so many years as a monarch, you are finding the little domestic chores to be rather refreshing
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> A mere thought closes the oven door
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> You turn back to the cutting board and peel the skin off an onion with your magic
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> Anon stares at you fondly from across the cutting board
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> You see a twinkle in his eye, the fires of his lust banked for now
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> As you chop the vegetable you have a nagging feeling that you forgot about something
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> You glance around, but everything seems to be fine
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> You blink, your eyes beginning to sting
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> You back away from the cutting board, wings flared and ready to...
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> Anon looks at you with tears in his eyes
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> Your body shimmers oddly, your concentration shattered
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> "Why are you avoiding me?"
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"What? I'm not!"
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> You feel your own tears forming
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> You never like to see a stallion cry, but this is too sudden
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"Green Bean, tell me, what's wrong?"
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> He opens his mouth, then pauses
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> You wait, goodness knows you don't want to pressure an emotionally distraught stallion
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> "Sunflower, you do know cutting onions make people cry, right?"
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> Oh
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> You scowl at him and he grins
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> You love him and his whimsy, you do, but...
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"You scoundrel, it's been a millennia since I last cooked. And crying is playing dirty, dear."
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> He weaves his way around the counter, his hips shifting beguilingly
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> Ooh, and that bulge
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> That's right, come to Mama
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> "One other thing, babe."
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> He loops his arms loosely around your withers, gazing at you in wonder
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> "Have you always had those freckles?"
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> You instinctively try to back away, but his grip is too strong and he just ends up falling onto your tuft
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> You almost cast your glamour again, but the damage is done
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"...They're just sunspots."
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> Anon leans against you, his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones
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> "Celly. Tia. Sunbeambum. Babe. You have no idea how cute you look right now."
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> You scrunch a little
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"You don't have to force yourself, I know what I look like."
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> Anon gazes deep into your eyes, your skin prickling pleasantly as his fingers trace little constellations on your face
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> "Celestia Cake Solarina, if you won't believe my words, let me explain more simply."
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> He presses his pelvis up against you, the firm length of his stallionhood hot on your belly
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> Your breath hitches, and you dare to hope
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"You like my...freckles."
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> He bares his delectably sharp teeth, his fingers digging into your wing muscles
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> U-unf
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> "The one good thing about you hiding them is, "
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> His voice is low and growling, resonating exquisitely against you
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> "now I want to knock you up even harder."
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> Faust, you love this stallion
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> With a sweep of magic and a push from your haunches, you push him gently to the cold tile floor and press down on his squirming, firm body
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> You pin him with marely strength, exulting in his futile struggles for dominance
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"Silly Green Bean, I'm the mare here. But I'll accept every drop you have for me."
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> He relaxes underneath you, melting into your pressure, all save a very key part of him
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> "Fine, but next time I get to top."
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> Then he bites your neck, mingling pain, pleasure, and fear within you
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> You gasp and surge against him
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> It seems breakfast will just have to wait
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